Forget Me Not
by Chedea
Summary: okay, so this was just going to be one, but I'm curious so here it is, several little one shots from Edward's POV on certian scenes in Betrayal. hope you like them!
1. Reunion

Hello there! well this is a scene from chapter nine of **Betrayal. **I got curious about Edward's interpreation of the first moments they saw each other, the first conversation they have in three years and his reaction to her love for him even though he doesnt really remember anything. I wanted to know what was going through his mind as the whole scene unfolded, and where along that line he had decided he couldnt leave her again. so here you go, the scene from chapter nine when Bella and Edward see each other for the first time in three years.

as always,

Enjoy :)

* * *

I had left her the rose with the intention of coaxing her out here. I had come to this meadow, this place I had seen in what few memories I had, hoping she would know to come here also. When I heard the rapid footfalls on the garden path I stopped breathing. I didn't know what to do. How should I confront the woman I have been thinking of constantly for months now, the woman I saw myself laughing with, kissing, _making love to_, but I didn't remember her favorite color? I didn't know her. I knew _of_ her. Carlisle had told me about her, about our past, what had gone on between us, how we had loved each other.

We loved each other. I had loved a woman, Bella was her name, and from what Carlisle told me, it was not half hearted in any way. I met her by moonlight for months, just to spend time with her. We risked life and limb to see the other, and in the end, I had died because of it. I had loved this woman enough to die for her.

But I didn't remember.

It killed me to know that she would see me and relief would spread through her, that she would remember our love and I wouldn't. I wanted to share in the joy of the moment; I wanted to know what it was like to love someone fiercely enough to do what we had done for the other.

Of course for all I knew she could have married the werewolf she was betrothed to in the years I had been absent, trying to adjust to my new body and capabilities. For all I knew she no longer wanted anything to do with me. She could have fallen out of love with me. I wasn't sure why, but that idea, that she no longer loved me, brought a hard, somehow painful feeling to my chest.

I inhaled slowly as I heard her steps coming closer. It was faint, but the smell coming off of her skin was already so tantalizing. But I knew I had to be strong, that I _would_ be strong. I had to. I had to see this woman for myself. Through my memories wasn't enough. She haunted me, her laugh, the smell of her hair, and the sound of her voice, the only words I ever remembered her saying.

_I'll miss you today._ In my memories those were the only ones I could hear her saying. Even still, her voice, that lovely sound, followed me. I had to meet her, had to see her for just one moment to know for myself that she wasn't simply my imagination.

But when her steps brought her to the edge of the meadow, I wasn't ready for what I saw.

She was beautiful. Wide, chocolate brown eyes stared back at me full of disbelief and wonder. Her soft, full lips were parted slightly, as though she was trying to say something but was unable. Her face was like an angel, so like the woman I remembered but stronger and more devastating and breathtaking. But I couldn't hear her breath as she stared at me.

"Breathe," I reminded her. She gasped a full breath. She didn't stop her staring. She did, however, take a single cautious step in my direction.

"You're here," she stated, as though she wasn't sure how true that statement was. Her voice was clearer than I remembered, but mostly the same. I nodded, but didn't say a word, too afraid to interrupt her if she spoke again.

"You left me a rose," she said a little slower, making another move in my direction. She kept looking at me as though she didn't truly believe me to be real. And of course I could not blame her. The last time she saw me, as far as Carlisle told me, was when he was carrying me away and I was beginning the change. I had been more or less dead to her for three years, and now I was here, waiting for her. I didn't want to tell her that I didn't know the same love I saw in her eyes, the same unwavering affection that was evident in her hitched breathing and shaky heart beat.

"Carlisle said two years, and it's been three and I didn't ever think I would see you again," she whispered. Stories Carlisle and Alice had told me filled my mind of who Bella had been, the impatient girl who had just become a woman. I drew a breath to respond and the smell of her hit me with full force. She was mouth watering. Venom pooled in my mouth and I swallowed it down, the burn of it in my throat reminding me why I could not afford to lose control at that moment.

"You always were impatient," I replied, speaking for the first time. She laughed but it sounded more like a cry. Her eyes were tearing up as she continued to walk in my direction. She finally stopped and I looked at her for a long moment. She should never cry. It didn't look right on her face, that kind of display of pain.

"Why are you crying?" I asked her. If it was hurting her, my being here, I would leave at that very moment. I had come here to find out who she was; if my being here was in any way hurting the angelic creature I had discovered her to be, I would not be a part of it. She looked surprised at my words after a moment, and then wiped away her tears hastily.

"I've missed you so much," she told me. I knew she wanted to hear me say that I missed her as well. I knew she wanted some sort of assurance of my continued love for her. But I could not give her that sort of guarantee. I would not lie to her.

"I know."

She watched me for a moment in silence, and then asked why I wasn't breathing. I explained about her scent, but not as detailed as to say every time I needed to breathe to answer her the smell coming off her skin was making me practically dizzy with intoxication.

"Carlisle said you might not remember me," she confessed, and in those seven words I heard grief. And of course it had been possible that I would not remember her when I awoke from the change. But looking at her now, I understood why my subconscious would not let me forget. She was too magnificent _not_ to remember, even if it was just the hazy, abbreviated memories I had.

"Carlisle was preparing you for the worst. It's true, there are a lot of thing I don't remember about my human life. And even the thing I do remember are hazy. But Bella, how could I ever forget you?" I asked. That at least was truth, an honest question. How could I forget a woman I loved enough to die for? I had suffered three days of unending hellish agony for her. Of course I didn't remember that it was for her when I woke up from it, but I knew now that I was ready to give up anything and everything for her. If that was not true love, I did not know the definition.

She shook her head and more tears fell from her eyes. I wanted more than anything to wipe them away and promise that she would never cry again. I had come here to see this woman, to know that she existed and understand my memories. But now I understood that knowing she existed in the world and having all the understanding of my memories would not be enough. The love in her face was unshakable, inhumanly potent. And she loved _me_. She knew what I was as I stood there in front of her and she still loved me, with fervor and loyalty I could see.

The thought of leaving her behind, of letting her go, made me ache. First, because I absolutely refused to hurt her any more than she was already hurt on my behalf. Even though she did not say it, I could see in the sheer relief, the absolute delirious happiness in her face that she had not been happy for the three years I was gone.

The second reason, as hard as it was to admit to myself, was that I wanted to understand what made me love her the way I did. She was gorgeous of course, pale lovely skin, beautiful expressive eyes, a smile that could bring a man to his knees, not to mention the sound of her voice, the unworldly curve of her body that I tried _not_ to think about or the fragrance radiating from her skin. I needed to know what it was about her personality, her being, that captivated me so, enough to make me willing to die for her, enough that my mind would not forget her, enough that I _wanted_ to return the love she had for me now.

I wanted to return her affection. I wanted to love her, if only to make her happy and see her smile. As we spoke of the past and the future, of her feelings for me and what I could not remember and what I did not feel, I became more and more determined to love her. I had to explain all that had happened in the three years I had been gone. And in turn, she told me our story, from beginning to end. Of course it was different from the one Carlisle told me because she knew so many more details than he ever could. But it was different in its own way. There was more passion in it, more reverence. She held what we had, however strange and unorthodox it might have been, in the highest respect. And as she told me how things had come to be, who we had been together, the stories from the nights we spent together, I began to understand why she hadn't let me go. She cared for me too deeply, needed me too tenaciously, loved me too dangerously to ever forget or get past it.

And I realized as I told her, that as much as she still thought of her as hers, I had decided unconsciously that she was still mine.

And I had no intention of letting her go.


	2. Kiss

**hey guys! here is the next scene for you all! the most requested scene was the first kiss they share with Edward as a vampire, and Bella obviously as a human. I hope you like it :) I'll probably toss another few of these out there because they REALLY help me when I've got writers block, aka the bane of my existence.**

**enjoy...**

* * *

"What do you have?" I asked her as she lay back upon her bed. She looked over at the parcel she had dropped unceremoniously on the bed beside her and her eyes flashed with desperation. I caught the look before she grabbed for the package and snatched it up before she could manage. She looked utterly horrified and I could feel the grin on my face. I undid the sting that bound the pack closed.

"It was all their idea!" Bella cried as several shimmering things tumbled froth from the bag. I had no idea what they were or why she would be so embarrassed to have them. But I reached down slowly and picked one up from the pile, something a stunning shade of blue. I stared at the garment in my hand.

She had brought home a dozen or so articles of clothing, if that was indeed what you could call them. Tiny little negligees I was sure she wouldn't have the guts to purchase herself. I glanced at Bella, and then back to the negligee. Her face was a delightful crimson red and her scent had strengthened in the air because of it. I felt my mouth water and swallowed hard, beating back the monster. And when I thought of it more, I simply had to laugh. There I had been accusing her of turning into a succubus earlier that day, and here she was bringing home lingerie.

"What exactly so funny?" she asked with a betrayed look on her face.

"You are turning into quite the little temptress, my Bella," I murmured slowly. I let go of the first garment and looked down at the pile still on the bed. With a little more curiosity I picked up a second, this one black and white and cut smaller and lower than the first.

And suddenly I couldn't stop my memories from washing over me. I had not lied when I told Bella my most vivid memories I still had were of she and I being intimate. It had caused quite a bit of confusion when I first started sorting thought the few memories I still had, but now it was evoking much more than confusion on my part. There were times over the days we spent together when I forgot that she was a human and I was a vampire and I couldn't simply _have_ her whenever I wanted. This was a moment when I wished we did not have to worry about hurting her or killing her and I could just be with her.

"It was horrible! I _tried_ to tell them that I didn't want or need them, but they simply would not listen!" Bella exclaimed as I continued to look through the pile of lingerie she had brought home. It was only so I did not have to look at her. I was afraid of what she would say if she knew what I was thinking of. The radiance of her skin, the smell that came off of her, her lovely chocolate eyes, silken hair, perfect curves…

"Such a modest temptress," I whispered. I looked up at her and heard her breath catch and her heart speed up. Her soft skin reddened immediately, as though she could indeed see what was occurring to me then. I had been with her before, felt her body, her kiss, her love. But now I couldn't and it was driving me mad. I needed her, and that need was slowly making me insane.

"Should I reprimand them?" I inquired, letting go of the last negligee without breaking our eye contact. She shook her head, saying nothing and without realizing it, I took a step in her direction. It wouldn't take many before I reached her. My mind was screaming that I should go, move away _now_ before I hurt her. But my feet worked of their own volition. I found myself sitting on the edge of her bed less than a foot from her before I had even realized it.

She was gasping for breath, like she had forgotten how to breathe correctly. Her heart was going so fast I could hardly keep track of the beat. Oh how I wanted to touch her. I would have given anything in that moment just to keep her skin under my hands and know that silken warmth again. But it was dangerous, much too dangerous, for me to act upon those wants. She was too fragile and precious to risk in such a way.

"We shouldn't be doing this," I muttered under my breath, tasting her thickening scent on my tongue as I did. It made my head spin.

"What?"

"I shouldn't," I told her. "We cant. It's too dangerous, far too dangerous. I shouldn't be here with you now. I shouldn't be this close. I should be able to leave but God I just _cant_…" there was no stopping now. It was going to be impossible to pull away from her luscious red lips, the taste of which I could almost remember.

"We cant," I whispered again, hoping that if I repeated it, if I made myself believe it I could pull away. But I could tell by the desire, the _need_ in her eyes, that there was no way I could. I was trying so hard not to remember making love to her just then, but she was making it impossible. She had innocence and love in her eyes. And there was nothing I wanted more than to show her that I cared for her, that I wanted her in every way.

"Kiss me please," she murmured. I stopped breathing, stopping thinking in that very moment. Didn't she know how she was breaking my resolve, my concentration, my ability to do what I should have been doing to keep her safe. I felt her hot breath as she spoke those words, begging me to do what I so longed to even without her persuasion. I could nearly feel her lips move as she parted them each time to form her words. I wanted nothing more than to reach out and grab her, hold her to me, kiss her deeply, but I just couldn't.

"Bella," I started, trying to form an argument, trying to make her understand why it was too dangerous. If she would only pull away, only move slowly away from me I could breathe free air, maybe concentrate on something other than her scent and taste of her mouth that I was anticipating so dearly.

"_Please_," she begged breathlessly.

That broke me. I felt myself letting go of the last shred of resolve I had held onto. I leaned toward her, stopping myself less than an inch from her ruby lips. I exhaled slowly, trying to steady myself, noticing the way her closed eyes flickered as I did. She then exhaled in turn and I breathed in her sweet scent, letting it fill me completely for a long moment. Long moments passed then, where we only breathed, inhaling the other's smell, getting dizzy off of it. Every second I _wasn't_ kissing her made me crazy.

Another memory of making love to Bella flashed through my mind and I groaned to myself. If I didn't kiss her now any sense of self control would soon be gone and I would end up taking her too roughly, touching her without any sort of control and I would hurt her before I knew what I was doing.

"Be still," I warned her. If she moved when I kissed her, leaned into me, touched me at all, I was sure I wouldn't be able to stop myself from doing things to her that I shouldn't. I almost kissed her then, but I realized that if I did, if I couldn't _see_ her when I did, I would lose myself in the purity of touch.

"I need to see your eyes," I pled. She opened them slowly, complying with my request. The sweet chocolate brown that met my eyes brought a smile to my face.

_She loves you she loves you she loves you…_

I repeated the thought over and over again for a long moment, before slowly leaning in and touching my lips to hers. For the first moment, I had no idea what to do. I was frozen with the overload to my senses. The soft warmth of her lips against mine, the sound of her sigh, the smell that filled my nostrils, but mostly the _taste_ of her, sweet and unbearable. I parted our lips slowly and then reconnected them, touching them again and again in succession, reveling in the sensation as I watched her beautiful eyes glazed over in what I hoped was euphoria. I felt one of my hands slip up to her shoulder, holding her gently but steadily in place, keeping her near to me. I kissed her over and over, tasting the sweet flavor on her lips and never wanting to stop.

Eventually it became necessary. If I didn't pull away I never would have been able to stop. I would have eventually taken more from her and we both knew she would never stop me. I wouldn't want to kill her, but I would want her so badly—I already did in fact—that I wouldn't be able to stop. I rested my forehead against hers, breathing in erratic pants and gasps. I hadn't needed to breathe for years, but I couldn't help the human-like response.

"Is that what it was always like?" I asked her as I controlled my breathing, listening to the pounding sound of Bella's heart and the rushing of air into her lungs. I felt her shake her head and opened my eyes, looking into hers.

"So that was new for you as well," I commented. For having the memories I did of her, the incredibly intimate and private memories, ones in which we were only kissing were nonexistent. She smiled.

"Very," she whispered to me. Her lips were an even deeper shade of red. I brought my hands to either side of her angel face. Her eyes closed slowly as a smile spread across her mouth again. I traced her bottom lip with my thumbs, touching the softness I had kissed only a moment before.

_Oh Bella, how you tempt me…_

"May I?" I asked, wanting nothing more than to kiss her again, to hold her close to me and touch my lips to hers once more.

"Always," she whispered. I smiled before kissing her once more. I was surprised by how much harder it was to kiss her this time. It had been by no means easy to keep my restraint while I had kissed Bella the first time, but now it was almost impossible. I wanted her blood—I always did—but now I wanted her body with more fervor than I had remembered. I pulled away more hastily this time, breaking the kiss before I submitted to my needs and wants and broke Bella.

After I broke the kiss I simply twined her hands with mine, holding them carefully. I wanted to hold her then, but I knew it would be far too dangerous to do something so intimate with my resolve being sorely tested by the sweet taste of her lips.

She smiled and sighed softly. The look in her eyes was very clear. She loved me.

It wasn't until then I realized I truly loved her in return.

* * *

**got any more scenes you'd like to see in Edward's POV? let me know!**


	3. Loss

**So here I am again with a little Edward point of view shot. I got a request from someone to do a little flash of when Edward started to remember Bella. and at first I was unsure of how I was going to do this, but I actually really like the way this one came out. I hope you do too!**

**enjoy! and as always if anythign comes up where you want to see it done, let me know!**

* * *

I was thinking of _her_ again.

Memories of my life as a human had always been scattered at best. They were hazy, hardly more than a moment and for the most part, I didn't remember anything at all. If I did see something it usually did not make much sense. It was just a snippet, a second or two of my father's face, or something Alice or Esme had said to me. For years I had remembered nothing more than these moments, and even the rare memories I had of other things didn't make any sense.

The first year after my change hadn't meant much of anything to me. I couldn't really concentrate on much and when I could I was focusing on the present, paying attention to my family. The blood lust made me insane most moments, the smell of anything living and breathing near me made my mouth water with venom. My body would shake and I would lose all train of thought, no matter what I had been trying to concentrate on previously. Memories served no purpose in that year. I couldn't focus on any, and I didn't make many either.

But as time passed, certain things would pop into my mind that I didn't recollect doing as a vampire. Every solid memory I made as vampire was cemented in my mind in perfect vision. But these memories, these little moments were stuck there in my mind, they were blurry but discernable. Wrestling with Emmett, with him obviously being very careful with me, helping Esme cook, one of the many things she insisted upon doing even though I was more than capable of doing it myself, playing cards with Alice—which was no fun really because she knew exactly what I was going to before I even did it. They were brief, but I liked having them. They reminded me that I was not just dropped into the lap of my family, they had loved me for years before I had changed into one of them.

I would try and concentrate on these brief memories sometimes to try and strengthen them or have them link me to something else, something more. I was discovering new memories all the time as time went on, as two years of being a vampire came and went. For being alive for eighteen years, I remembered so little. But each remembrance was like a tiny blessing.

That was until memories of _her_ began to surface. I knew every member of my family. And in my memories they would be there with me, in some situation. I had been with them. But one day whilst sitting and pondering my recollections, the image of a girl came to me suddenly.

It was a moment, nothing more. We had been sitting together in dim light and she looked up at me and smiled, her gorgeous brown eyes sparkling with joy as I swept a lock of dark, wavy hair away from her angel face. She turned her face to meet my hand and smiled wider. And then she was gone.

I felt like Emmett had just sucker punched me. I doubled over where I was sitting on the front steps of the house. I covered my mouth, feeling some strange and unfamiliar, like my insides were all moving about on their own, not sure where to settle. I breathed quickly, knowing that it wasn't really going to do much but understanding that the human habit, even though I consciously did not remember it, was something my body would employ on its own. I bent over and rested my head in hands, breathing slowly, inhaling the cool, early spring air. My head was spinning.

No memory had ever affected me that way. I felt like for a single moment I had been given something and then it had been ripped away from me. I felt…_sick,_ impossible as it was. I dragged the memory back to the surface of my mind and played it again. There she was, some beautiful woman. Who was she? And why had that single moment made me react so violently as I had?

She was not part of my family, that I knew. If she was I would have seen her by now, I would have known her. They would have told me about her. It didn't make any sense. They had never mentioned any real friends outside the family. Was it possible they didn't know about her? Could it be that I had spent time with someone and they were not aware?

But when I rethought that it was impossible, if I had come home and smelled like anyone they would have known. There was no way I could have remained under the radar about anything in a house full of vampires. They must have known her, and if not at the very least they must have known _about_ her.

I went back inside my house with a mission. I needed to find Carlisle. He would tell me what I was remembering. I found my way upstairs and eventually to the room he had taken as his study. He hadn't been doing much work as a doctor for the past few years because of my being a newborn, but that didn't stop him from researching and being as studious as ever. He simply didn't stop.

When I burst into his study he looked at me strangely and I could tell by his thoughts, strange and jumbled as they were at the moment—a mix of his reaction to me and his previous thoughts about blood transfers—he was concerned.

"Who was she?" I asked before I even sat down. Carlisle gave me a confused look, wondering in his thoughts who I could possibly be referring to. Before he was able to voice the question aloud I answered his thoughts.

"The girl I am remembering! You must have known her—dark hair, brown eyes, impossibly gorgeous…please tell me you knew her," I begged, acknowledging my own pitiful behavior. I didn't care. When I thought about her, and I hadn't been able to _stop_ thinking about her since I had remembered her face, I still felt shaky, odd and off-balance. His thoughts were blank for a moment, as though he was _trying_ not to think about it. And then he sighed.

"Her name was Isabella Swan. She lived near us and you met her almost three years ago now, obviously I don't expect you to remember that. She was…she was a lovely girl. You two spent quite a bit of time together."

There was a long pause here, in which Carlisle mind was vacillating. All I could hear him thinking was whether he should tell me or not. He sighed then.

"You loved her, Edward. And she loved you, more than anything."

His words seemed empty at first, but as he began to explain our story, to tell me what had happened between this Isabella and I in my forgotten past, the sentiment began to work under my skin. I had loved her. She had loved me back. And from what Carlisle told me, we were happy together. We had risked a lot to be with each other, both of putting our safety and futures on the line. She had tried to tell me, apparently, that she was no good for me and that I should leave her to keep myself safe. But I wouldn't go. She had loved me enough to leave me to keep me from getting hurt.

So why was it the only memory I had of her was that single moment? I was utterly frustrated that I could not conjure more memories of her. Here was a woman I had _died_ for, and yet I could not see her in my mind more than just that single moment. I told this to Carlisle, confessing my agitation at the situation after he had explained the back-story to the angel I could hardly remember.

"Do you want to see her?" Carlisle asked. I had no idea what he meant. See her as in go find her and talk to her in person? How could I? How could I go find a woman I hadn't seen in years, that had loved me, that _I_ had been in love with, and tell her that I didn't really remember her?

But Carlisle thoughts quickly cleared up my confusion. Before I could ask my question, a memory surfaced to his mind. I focused so my mind was moving with his and watched as scene after scene unfolded. The first time I met her, a night he and Esme spent with us in the meadow she and I frequented, every interaction between she and I Carlisle had in his memory. When he had no more to show me I felt my body relax against the chair I had sat in. I hadn't realized I was leaning forward throughout the entire thing, but as I sat back I had to quell that same ill feeling that had swept me earlier.

"Why did it take so long to remember her?" I asked. Carlisle shrugged.

"I don't think you were ready. Becoming a vampire in and of itself is traumatic to the body and the mind. Can you imagine if you had to deal with the pain of loss as you coped with your new body and needs?"

"Is that what this is? Loss is the reason I am feeling so…strange?" I inquired hastily. Carlisle smiled sadly and nodded.

"I don't even know her, how can I miss her?"

It was a question Carlisle left to think on. He had no answer for me. He only knew that the look on my face when I had been reeling from his memories was loss if he had ever seen it. But as the weeks went by I began to think perhaps he was right. I spent so much of my time concentrating, trying to drag up memories of her, hoping there were a few I had not yet discovered. I found a few. Some were as innocuous as the first, simply a moment in time, snatched out of oblivion to torture me with the face of a goddess.

But it was the ones that were not harmless that were driving me crazy. About two weeks after my first memory of Bella had surfaced I was overcome with the most vivid memory I ever had of my human life. At first I was ecstatic because it was about Bella and I was desperate to remember as much of her as I possibly could. But when I realized what was happening in my recollection it was like I was watching some sort of horrible accident in my own mind; I simply could not look away.

I was making love to Bella. She was there, beneath me, looking like an angel like she always did. But it wasn't just seeing her there with me, it was _feeling_ things the way I suddenly was. The memory played out in its entirety, clearer and longer than any of my other memories ever had been, and when it was over I got up and went for a run. My body was screaming. I needed to hunt, but now I needed _her_ as well. I had never felt anything even close to the need I suddenly felt for the woman I had just made love to in a memory.

So I ran until I caught the scent of some deer and I hunted and fed, trying to block out the images and feelings I had so recently discovered. It was driving me mad. She wasn't even here and still I wanted her. I focused on one of the remembrances of her that wasn't so debilitating. I watched as she lay on the grass beside me, singing softly as she gazed at the stars above us. The moonlight threw her features into relief and I was utterly transfixed.

When I got back home I tried not to think about her. It was a fruitless endeavor. She was haunting me with every step I took. I couldn't even sleep and avoid her. Though when I thought about it I was sure that I would dream of her if I could. She went everywhere with me, reminding me that somewhere there was a woman who loved me more than anything in the world.

For nearly two and a half years I had absolutely no memory of her whatsoever, but she had known me. If she had forgotten about me, moved on and married the man she had been engaged to, I would be disappointed, but I would accept it. But as far as what Alice had told me when I asked her about Bella, she promised me that nothing of the sort would ever happen. She would not forget about me.

And so that made me think about this woman I loved getting up and living her life each and every day having to remember me. I had felt loss weeks before when I first remembered her, but she would have felt that _everyday_ for years. I didn't want to imagine her that way, feeling that same strange illness I had felt whenever a memory of her caught me off guard. It wasn't fair that she was made to remember me and I couldn't even do the same for her. I wanted to. I _wanted_ to remember her more than anything else. But I simply couldn't. There was so much about her I didn't know. I didn't even remember her name on my own.

The only way to really remember her would be to make new memories with her.

And in that moment, I decided something.

I wanted to find her. Even if she wasn't where she had been before we left, even if she was married or across the world I wanted to find her, just to see her for a single moment and know she was real.

I wanted to see her.

And I would.


	4. Struggle

"All is fair in love and war, dear Bella," I informed her.

She looked at me with a question in her eyes, those perfect eyes that sat right in her perfect face, dripping with rain water, her hair plastered to his head, but still so lovely. She had been so close to me all day now, it was driving me mad not to be touching her. After so long of her avoiding me, not wanting to be alone with me, seeming to almost _hate_ me, I thought my heart was breaking. I had never felt so alone as I did watching a woman I loved, a woman who had confessed her love to me countless times in more ways than I would ever be able to enumerate acting as though she wanted nothing to do with me. But then this afternoon…

Alice had told me to go talk to her. I had argued with her for a moment but then she made me look at her through the window, see the way she sparkled in the sunlight, so much more a miracle than any man ever really had the right to look at. I couldn't argue any longer. And so I had gone expecting cursory company at best and finding that Bella was not only invested in my happiness but that she didn't hate me.

And when she had ever thrown herself into my arms God help me if I didn't laugh to cover up how thrilled I was. I couldn't help it. I had gotten carried away the last time we had spent any time alone and been too intimate with her, she hadn't been ready for that and I had kicked myself for it. But outside...that hadn't been me. I hadn't been the one to make that first move. She had practically tackled me. How I had longed to cover her face in kisses, to hear her sigh as I kissed her the way she always did. But I wasn't going to push. I was happy just to hold her to me, to lie there with her, to run my fingers through her long hair and listen to her speak and feel her laugh as her stomach contracted with each giggle.

And then it had rained on us. I had been worried for a moment that the rain would ruin the moment and when it was over Bella and I would return to the careful and forceful distance she had maintained between the two of us. But when we had come inside we had continued to joke. And now she was looking at me with an adorable puzzlement in her beautiful eyes.

"And which is this?" she asked in return.

"Oh, I would guess a little bit of both," I confessed. She grinned.

"Is that so?" I nodded and she smiled wider. "Well how do we know when someone wins?" she inquired, suddenly making this a very literal competition.

"The only way someone can win is if the other gives up, I highly doubt such a thing would happen," I told her. I knew myself and if I had to I would be wily and win out over her, but I knew she was far too stubborn to ever just give in. We both had far too much pride to ever admit defeat.

"You don't think I could get you to give up," she said, as though she could hardly believe that fact. I told her that no, I certainly did not think she could. And then something happened I had not seen in her in so long. She smiled at me, this deliciously wicked smile and I knew, right then and there that she was up to something. I hadn't meant for her to take it as a challenge, but I certainly would not complain if she took it in such a manner.

She stepped toward me and at the same time took the shirt I had removed from my body in her hands and let it drop to the ground with a thud behind her before invading my space, putting our bodies less than an inch apart. She placed her small hands on my bare shoulders and leaned into me and I could feel the barest outline of her body against mine, which I hadn't failed to notice was painfully bare compared to her clothed chest.

"So determined to lose," I said quietly. I didn't particularly know why I had to say it, but I was curious as to how far she would push this. And immediately she reacted, moving her hands from my shoulders to behind my neck, bringing her forehead to mine and staring right into my eyes, so close I felt every breath. I quelled the shaking that I felt start from my toes. Determined not to let her think she was affecting me too drastically I looked in her eyes skeptically, as though to convey that I wasn't fazed at all by her behavior. But the reality was in fact the opposite. Having her so close was driving me crazy.

It was only when she finally moved that I realized what a mistake it had been to bait her.

She did similarly to what I had done outside, resting her perfect cheek against mine, her breath ruffling the tiny hairs at the base of my neck, making my stomach drop to the floor. When she moved to do the same to the other side of my cheek I practically gasped a breath, striving to drive the heady scent of her from my mind. But it wasn't working, she was too close, and it was starting to work against my resolve to be gentle and slow with her. I wasn't going to push her. But God was she pulling on every last reserve of strength I had.

When her lips touched both my cheeks in succession I wasn't sure what to do, but I knew that I certainly couldn't turn my face and catch her lips with mine as I wanted to. I would have killed to be able to kiss her then. And then I was about to get my wish. Her eyes flicked to mine and then to my lips and she leaned in to kiss me. I was too afraid to move and so I stood still.

And then she stopped.

She really was an evil thing, a horrible little temptress. I couldn't be the one to kiss her. The first reason was of course that if she was challenging me now if I kissed her it would be admitting defeat, and as I had recently discovered my pride simply wouldn't allow it. The second of course was that if she really wanted to kiss me she would have done it and I wasn't about to cross lines she wasn't ready to cross. The last was that I knew my control over my physical actions at that moment were miniscule and wouldn't be enough to keep from overstepping my bounds, even if she did want to kiss me. I swallowed hard, trying to keep from just closing the infintesimal gap between us. But she just stared into my eyes with this perfectly innocent look in her eyes, her tempting lips so close to mine. My hands came from where they had been at my side and wrapped around her, held her back, squeezing her to me.

It was all I could do not to think of the memories I had of Bella and I together making love. It was near impossible. And then I realized it was better if I _did_ think of those memories, if I was reminiscing I wasn't thinking of pushing her back against the wall behind her, kissing her wildly, threading my fingers through her hair, pressing close to her…I shook at the mere thought. I couldn't control myself much longer. I hadn't wanted her this bad since the first time we kissed after I came back for her, and even then I had a reason to be careful. She had been human and I needed to be careful with her. Now I had no such parameters. We didn't need to be careful. I couldn't hurt her physically any more than she could hurt me.

And so she _was_ hurting me. It was getting physically painful to resist her. She was _so close_ and she smelled so good and I knew what she would taste like and it would be like heaven, the ecstasy I would get from a single passionate kiss with this woman would be worth every memory I had of us together when we were human. I would gladly trade them, forget I had ever known her body in such a way if she would just _kiss_ me.

I had to do something soon so I didn't go insane with this or take from her something she wasn't ready to give.

"This is no fair," I finally said, my voice a hoarse raspy whisper. I felt her lips against mine when I spoke and God help me if I didn't almost break right then.

"Love and war, remember?" she retorted. Her lips moved slowly and it was like heavenly torture to have her lips close to me, her breath in my mouth as she spoke, filling me with the taste of her. I was dying, just drowning in it. I groaned, trying to keep still. I didn't know how I managed not to just _explode_ right there. She seemed to understand that though, and she leaned away, back against my hands which had clasped behind her back. She rested against them and asked me if I was all right. I had closed my eyes to rid my eyes of the beautiful picture of her face, to try and regain some control. But with my eyes closed all I cold see were my many hundreds of fantasies that my mind had concocted over the few minutes we had been standing there.

"Bella, even though I don't have any sort of hunger for your blood any more that doesn't mean I don't still _want_ you," I confessed. She opened her eyes wide at me and she looked surprised that I was being so very candid.

"So it as more love than war," she said quietly. I didn't know if she was trying to be funny or trying to break the tension of the moment. I smiled at her a bit.

"It always is with you," I told her. She smiled and then I looked at her, attempting to be menacing. I wasn't ready to be done with this Bella yet, if she was going to revert to the way she had been before I was going to take advantage of these moments. She stepped away from me, out of the circle of my arms, and looked at me in mock horror. I only smiled more.

I chased her into the rain.

**So I suddenly wanted to write this ridiculous scene from Edward's POV because lets be honest, we all feel for the poor boy here, and I wanted everyone to understand what our dearest Edward was going through. not that he minded ;)**


	5. Heart and Body

**hi guys!! I simply could NOT resist the urge to retell this scene in Edward's point of view, beacuse lets be honest, we were all wondering :) so here you go, a little more Bella and Edward love, because we all like to see it.**

I had just returned with the ball in my hand, successful yet again in the game Emmett, Jasper and I had made up to pass some time. Before I even had the chance to throw the ball again I saw Bella literally launch herself from where she was standing and stumble forward a few steps, breathing heavily, her whole body shaking. Both Rosalie and Alice asked her if she was okay, what had just happened, but she neglected to answer of them, only staring down at the grass beneath her bare feet as though she couldn't bear to look away. So I tossed the ball unceremoniously to Emmett, who caught it effortlessly, and took a few steps in her direction. She announced that she was fine. I wasn't sure if I believed her or not.

"Another memory?" I asked. In the back of my mind I heard Emmett and Jasper continue the game, heard Emmett throw the ball and Jasper go running off in the direction to catch it. But I was focused on Bella and what was happening with her.

She nodded to me but didn't say a thing, still staring determinedly at her feet. Not being able to hear her thoughts was utterly maddening. There was clearly something happening in her, but she wouldn't say what it was. The shaking in her body seemed to double for a moment, growing more intense, and then she seemed to steady herself, her breathing deeper and less erratic.

"Are you sure you're okay?" I asked, just wanting to make sure she wasn't claiming to be all right for our benefit when in reality there was something wrong. I thought I at least had earned her trust. At that moment she finally looked up at me and when her eyes met mine I encountered an expression I was wholly unfamiliar with on Bella's face. I didn't know what she was trying to convey through her features, but whatever it was, I could see that t had taken hold of her completely. Neither of us moved, both stuck in our original positions, not daring to take a single step.

And then Jasper came out of the trees, holding the ball in his hand and I was literally almost floored with his sudden rush of thoughts. I didn't exactly intend to listen in to his thoughts, but they were so sudden and so _strong_ I didn't really have a choice.

_Oh my God…she wants him so_ badly_ I don't understand how she is fighting it. And God what an exquisite feeling…oh that's so wrong coming from her but still…how can she feel that kind of physical need and not give in?_

I couldn't help the shocked expression that crossed my mind as his thoughts continued to filter through my mind, bringing further repetition of the fact that she was feeling lust, desire and _pleasure_ somehow. I now understood why she wouldn't look at me in those moments. But more than just Jasper's thoughts and the clarity of his understanding of Bella's feelings were the emotions he himself was exuding. He couldn't help it, I was sure, caught so completely in the web of her emotions, but he was letting loose a feeling of utter need that my body was picking up in full force, only expatiated by the beautiful woman standing but feet from me. And to know that she was feeling it too, to know that her body was calling for me just as mine was _screaming_ for her…it made the feeling only that much more maddening.

Before I could utter a single phrase Bella turned on her heel and left, walking past Rosalie and Alice into the house. I didn't know why she went, but I followed her without a second thought, my feet taking the same path to wherever she went.

I found her sitting in the living room with my parents. I of course could not discuss this with her here, could not tell her that I understood her sudden lust—if her memory had been what I assumed it was, us together, making love—I certainly couldn't blame her. My body had reacted that same way, and I hadn't even been in her presence at the time.

"Edward―" she began. I silenced her by asking if it was possible for us to continue our discussion not in the presence of my mother and father. She seemed reluctant, but agreed nonetheless. I felt her presence behind me as she followed me upstairs, and I chose the ballroom as a sort of neutral ground between us where I could tell her what I needed to tell her without her feeling backed into a corner. For a moment the only sounds were our muffled footfalls on the marble floor beneath our feet and then once the door was shut and we had spent a moment in awkward silence I sighed.

"You don't have to be embarrassed, Bella. I remember what that was like, suddenly being hit with that kind of memory and knowing…knowing we made love and not remembering anything else…well, I can understand that kind of confusion," I said quietly, feeling my hands pulling at each other nervously. I had never been one to act anxious, but I didn't know what to do with the discomfited nature of this conversation. "And I just wanted to tell you that I…I know what those feelings were. They were reactionary, remnants of the feelings from your memory; I didn't take them as anything else. I didn't want you to think I was going to…take them the wrong way, okay?"

I watched her and said nothing for a moment, waiting for her reaction. I didn't know if she would be embarrassed, with that adorable lip bite she managed or if she would laugh, in that unexpected way she did, or if she would say nothing at all. What I did not expect was that same expression as before, the one I hadn't recognized, to cross her face once more. It was less intense than before, softened in a way, but there it was. Was she experiencing that same feeling again? Was she thinking about the memory, or was she having that sensation all on her own? I felt the familiar pang of wanting to know _exactly_ what she was thinking once again, but I would have to deal with her reactions, expressions and her words to give me an idea of what she wanted from me.

That drove me insane, to say the least.

"I…" she said, and then her voice died in her mouth. And for a moment the world was silent and still. But then her face shifted and then a familiar expression sat on her beloved features, and this expression I knew however long it had been since I had seen it myself.

That was the face she always had when she wanted me to kiss her. I had seen it the first time when we first saw each other, and I hadn't known what it was, but after having seen it many many times since then, I had recognized every single moment when she had given me that look. I didn't know if she even knew she was doing it, or if that was the face she meant to make at that moment in time, but I wasn't about to pass up the invitation she was giving me. Recognizing that face in past days had given me some of the sweetest kisses to memory, the ones when she wasn't prepared for them, but always sighed and acquiesced in sweet surrender. I didn't want to give up that kind of opportunity, and it had served me so well in the past.

"I understand," I said quietly, looking at her. And then I let my body guide me, and moved forward, placing my hands on either side of her angel face, and kissed her gently. When she responded I was shocked, in the most glorious of ways. She grabbed onto me so forcefully she would have broken something if I were human. The loveliest part of it all was that I _wasn't_ and neither was she, for that matter. I didn't have to be careful, watch the lines of safety, hold back anything. I held on to her as forcefully, pulling her against me, not willing to be anything but close to her. My lips moved against her of their own accord, not listening to reason, not having to, and making it impossible to think of anything but the feeling of her pressed to my chest. Having my hands on her, my lips on hers, my fingers twisted in her silken hair made me want to scream and never ever let her go.

So when she drew back and gasped a breath and began to speak I interrupted her, not willing to stop kissing her just yet. I hadn't been able to kiss her in so long, and even when I could, it was never, _never_ like this. Without thinking I backed her up against the wall behind her and pressed my body more forcefully against hers. I felt her grip on I needed to stop kissing her mouth or I was going to lose it completely and end up doing something I regretted, and so I dropped my mouth to her perfect neck and laid several kisses on the sweet, tender skin there. I felt her body shake with each and every one and was sane enough for the moment to admire my work and the reactions I was inspiring in her.

Unexpectedly she took my face in her hands and roughly removed it from its ministrations at her neck. She was gasping, a wild look in her perfect eyes.

"You need to stop doing that," she informed me. I grinned at her but nodded and then ducked my head and caught her soft lips for another kiss. This kiss wasn't even close to the others, not of the same kind at all. This was a kiss I was offering my heart, not my body. They were separate things, I hoped she knew. One was not the other. She already had my heart, and she always would, no matter what else of mine she chose to accept.

I have been wanting to do that for so long," I told her as I pulled her back against me, letting her rest against my body, admiring how wonderful it felt to truly hold her, have her in my arms and know that I had just kissed her, _kissed_ her. I could still feel her lips lingering on mine and it made me sigh in ecstasy to remember it. She apologized needlessly, a habit I wanted to make sure she knew was unnecessary.

"Never, ever apologize for something that led to a kiss like that one," I informed her. I couldn't help but smile when I felt her laugh a bit and then lean against me a bit more.

"I still don't understand how you managed to figure me out when I didn't even bother to explain myself properly," she said, her voice muffled slightly as her face was turned away and pressed unceremoniously against my shoulder. I leaned back a bit, and she stood straight and looked at me. I smiled down at her perfection.

"You forget that I have known you for a while now, Bella. Your expressions haven't changed much. That one you just had, even without the explanation, clearly shouted 'kiss me'. And of course, how could I say no to the most beautiful woman in the world?" I questioned. I didn't mention having the residual feelings of lust and need and desire and pleasure rolling through my body had outweighed my logic, or that my own memories of our nights spent together had played in my mind, short and sweet each of them.

"I wouldn't expect you to," she replied with a grin. How I loved this woman in my arms. I made sure, in that moment to tell her exactly how much I loved her and why. Not that I hadn't mentioned it to her before, but I felt she should hear it again, that she should understand what I was willing to give for her. But also so she would know that the second she loved me—and even though I knew she might not I always made it a when statement, not an if; the idea of her loving me was too painful to ever even consider—she needed to say so. I didn't want to miss a single second of her love, I simply wasn't willing to. She didn't say a word, just stared into my eyes with more intensity than I was able to meet, and so instead of looking back, after a moment I leaned in and kissed her again, relishing the slow but equally as forceful reaction she had to this kiss.

And when she broke it eventually, pushing me away playfully it was as though all of time had stopped and frozen in it was my Bella, the lovely, ungodly woman that she was, here in my arms, a smirk on her rosy lips. She was otherworldly. It was all I could do to keep from telling her I loved her once more when she smiled at me like that, so innocent and so beautiful. I truly didn't deserve her or what she had given for me. When she scampered off, equally as playful, I didn't follow her for a moment, taking the time to gather myself. I wanted to be rid of the full body lust that had consumed me, and the needs that were not at all in their right place or time. And when I followed her still echoing steps down the hall and down the stairs I could only smile.

_Oh my Bella, you have no idea what you do to me._


	6. Battling Sins

**Righto, loyal readers. this one is a rewrite of the scene where Edward almost kills Bella when they are walking back from Jacob's place. I dont really know what possessed me to write it, but it sort of took me over, and honestly, I think this is the best one yet. I tried not to just be a dialouge repeat too much, but some of it could not be helped, so bear with me through those parts and enjoy the rest, okay?**

**enjoy, oh you lovely readers, you :p**

"Edward, I am more than capable of locating something I dropped," she asserted. I had to smile. Even though her human eyes were so much less attuned than mine, her steps slower, her reflexes and dexterity not as sharp as mine she always insisted on doing things for herself. That was perhaps one of the things that amazed me most about Bella, my own personal seraph. Because she _was_ mine, as I had come to discover, mine to love and soon mine to have for eternity as my wife, my confidant, my best friend, perhaps my lover.

And oh how I loved her in those moments, watching her walk slowly, weaving her steps in a serpentine pattern to locate her lost key. If I hadn't been so focused on watching her I surely could have located it, even from where I was. But I was content to watch her walk with that concentrated expression on her perfect face, her lower lip between her teeth in her most telltale of expressions.

With her back to me I heard small gasp and almost her mental 'aha!' as she bent down to retrieve a precious trinket that she would have been devastated to lose, especially so soon after recieving it. She turned to me and held it up in childlike triumph, clearly pleased with herself. It was all the strength in me not to go and run to her right then, sweep her feet out from under her, catch her in my arms and kiss her breathless. She slid the brass key in her left pocket, the one sans hole, and then began her slow and purposeful trek toward me. In some other moments I would have grown impatient with her seemingly mocking slowness, but with Bella it only gave me more time to admire her as she took each and every careful step in my direction.

Until I saw—too late of course, for it seems the most important moments are always caught too late, are they not?—her tiny foot catch in a tree root. It snagged her toes and brought her to the ground. I was too far away to catch her, even though it would have been possible for me to be at her side I could not cross that distance in time to catch her fall completely, as would have been necessary. And she could not regain her balance fast enough to keep from toppling over. I knew she was clumsy, a danger magnet if there ever was one, but I hadn't predicted this moment, as idiotic as that seemed.

And as soon as her hands, perfect and fragile and pale, scraped across the rough ground I felt my body literally tear in two. I ruptured, I cracked and crumbled and burned and ached and _screamed_ inside. There was blood on the ground, blood in the air, blood filling my nose and mouth, starving me, maddening me even though I wasn't breathing. I had taken one, surprised, unknowing breath and with that had come the smell of her blood and the temptation therein. I stood my ground, balling my hands into fists, straining every muscle in my body. Everything in me, every single last fiber of my being was vying to attack her and I, the man, the conscience, the one who loved Bella…I was fighting. Somewhere in my rational mind I was still processing the situation. I saw as she wiped her hands on her dress and then looked down at her hands in confusion and fear. She said my name. I heard it somewhere, filtering through the air, into my ears, ringing with some distant sound that was like familiarity.

"Edward, please, its Bella," she said quietly, knowing full well I could hear her. I _knew_ who it was. That was the worst part, never in my mind had I forgotten who she was, what her lovely face did to my still heart. But I wanted to kill her more than I wanted to kiss her. So I did the only thing I cold manage to do.

I told her to run.

But she paused. She waited, hesitated, as though unsure of what I had said. I didn't have time for her to cautious or questioning. I just needed her to _go_.

"RUN!" I shouted, as loud as I could, almost being able to see the echo of my voice as it rang through the air and touched her perfect face. She looked as though I had shocked her, and then finally, mercifully, she did as I asked, and ran.

What I hadn't realized was that her running away only made the instincts dig deeper into me and take hold with a firmer grasp. It was the instinct of the hunt and now my prey was running and my body was begging for a chase.

"No…no I can't…its Bella, _Bella_, your fiancée, you love her…" I reasoned with myself. But in the end the answer was always the same.

She was food, first and foremost. She was prey, blood, a meal and she was _getting away._

And so, slowly, with pain unlike anything I had ever experienced, I began walking in her direction, the scent of her blood so much stronger as I followed her path. She was still bleeding, drops making her trail so evident I could almost see it leading me to her.

"STOP!" I commanded in a fervent whisper. I couldn't kill her, couldn't take her precious life, couldn't take her light and snuff it out forever. But the thirst, oh the _thirst_ was eating up my insides, tearing me apart, ripping me to shreds and still begging, pleading, shouting, screaming for me to hunt her down and kill her, drain her tiny body of every drop of blood it housed and slake the hunger that twisted into every crevice in my body and made me burn. And so for every moment I stopped—countless times, so many hundreds of thousands when I thought I had the strength—I was propelled forward with the promise of blood and a meal well earned. Fighting my urges, my instincts, my very being only made me thirst more, made it harder to resist.

As I got closer I could hear her panted breath, smell her stronger, hear the sounds her feet made on the ground as she found her footing and continued to run. When I heard her stop, my heart dropped to my feet. _No, Bella, please keep going…if you stop now I will catch you…_

I didn't know how long I had been following her, how far the distance was, if she was tired, or exhausted, or she simply couldn't go on. Was the monster I was forcing her to the point of collapse?

And then I saw her.

For a moment seeing her body, frail and precious, heaving with every gasping breath, grasping that stupid key that had caused this trouble in one shaking hand, face blank of emotion but still wide and wondering, made me pause. I was strong enough. I could keep from killing her. The scent was strong, sure, and it made me ache in ways I had never known a person could ache in all my days and weeks and months and years. But she was Bella, my Bella, my love. I could keep it together.

But I couldn't. The monster in me roared up unexpectedly and took me over. I took a step forward and in a moment of uncharacteristic noise, broke a twig beneath my feet. She instantly turned. For a moment relief crossed her face, and immediately following it came understanding. For that single moment she had thought I was her Edward, the loving, careful, in control Edward she loved so much. But then she realized I wasn't, I was a monster, a beast, undeserving of anything she cold give me, even the blood my own body called for so strongly.

"Bella," I whispered, trying to tell her I was sorry, trying to tell her I never meant to hurt her, trying to tell her that I loved her one more time before I lost control completely. It was coming soon, I could feel it. I was shaking, utterly trembling all over as the scent of her so close, the sight of the blood dripping slowly from her hand made me burn and tremble and die inside.

"Yes, Edward, it's Bella. I love you, Edward, and you love me, remember that. Please remember that," she said quietly. And how I tried. Oh how I tried to fight with every inch of my control every day's worth of restraint I had acquired and even days beyond what I had lived I mustered in that moment. But it wasn't enough.

Neither was the fear. There was so much of it in her eyes. She was shaking now too, only her quaking out of fear, mine out of thirst. She was afraid of me, terrified even, of what I was going to do, what I was capable of. It killed me to know I was frightening her.

"I'm so sorry," I managed to say. I didn't know what part of my mind had retained sanity in the wake of such an aching need, but whatever it was had managed to speak. I opened and closed my hands, loosing and retightening them in succession.

"Edward―" she began. But in that time I lost it. There was nothing left for either of us to do. I was going to kill her, it was as simple as that. She was as good as dead because I was a monster and I couldn't control myself. But even those thoughts were secondary as the idea of her blood, luscious, hot, sweet and delicious flowed through her mind like it soon would through my mouth and down my throat. There would be no satisfaction like the taste of her blood in my mouth.

"So sorry," I murmured. That fear flashed through her eyes again and it ripped different pain through me, but it wasn't enough. My love, she just wasn't enough. Nothing was. Not the sounds being made my something in the forest, the fear in her eyes, my own pleadings, or her profession of love in what she must have assumed to be her last moments. I took a step toward her.

And then motion exploded. Alice snatched her away from me, my perfect little prey, my Bella, my love, my meal, and Emmett held me back, with a struggle, to keep me from going after her. I wanted to chase her down and drink her dry, and at the same time, the sane part of me was practically rejoicing that someone had stopped me. Without them I would have killed her.

Once she was gone, really gone, with Alice too fair away from me to even think about her scent or her blood or her body or how much I had wanted to kill her, the guilt began to set in. Emmet must have felt it in my body and he let me go, his arms slackening around me and letting me find my own feet and walk. As soon as I hit the ground I felt like dying. I could think clearly now and I could see the look in her eyes—she had been afraid of me. She had been scared stiff, had run to the point of exhaustion, had accepted death and _still_ professed _love_ of all things to me when she was sure I was going to murder her. What a beast I was, a monster, a murderer. I was unworthy of her love, her time, anything and everything she was.

"Edward, listen―"

"I was going to kill her, Emmett. I was going to take her life, I was going to. There was nothing stopping me―not her fear, not her love, nothing. She was going to de by my hand because of my thirst, because of what I was. I…she must hate me right now. She must hate me," I muttered, so very sure of the validity of that statement. And then on top of the grief and guilt, the ponderous heavy, weighted feeling that sat on my chest because of what I had done, came the anger. Although anger wasn't really the word for it; it was rage.

I flew into a frenzy of movement, angry, terrible movement. I knocked down trees, ripping them from the ground by their very roots, threw boulders across the woods, cutting straight through other trees, breaking their trunks in half with the weight and solidity and force behind it. I could hear Emmett trying to catch my attention but there was nothing in my mind but the memory of her telling me she loved me.

"_Yes, Edward, it's Bella. I love you, Edward, and you love me, remember that. Please, remember that."_

Just the thought of her voice in my mind, my unworthy ears and my startlingly disgusting being, made me furious. Who was I to claim this angel as mine when I had been so ready to kill her? What a beast I was, a selfish beast at that, to lay claim to such a creature when I was going to destroy her. I had told her she was the only thing that made this life worthwhile, made this existence worth going through, and yet there I had been, on the edge of crouching and springing into action, taking her down and forcing her life, her precious, sacred human life, from her gorgeous body.

And in the midst of my anger and guilt Alice appeared.

She shouted for me and I stopped finally, her high pitched voice bringing my motion to a halt. Emmett wondered briefly what it was about her voice that made me stop that he couldn't manage, but then decided he didn't care, it only mattered that it _had_.

"I'm so sorry, Alice, so sorry. God, she must hate me. She hates me…oh Bella, I'm sorry…" I whimpered.

"She doesn't hate you," Alice assured me. I opened my moth to protest and then I heard her thoughts. The single phrase, innocuous in its intensions, not meant to spur action did just that.

_Carlisle is probably in the middle of changing her as we speak, anyway._

I didn't mean to, but I snarled. He couldn't change her, he just couldn't. Not after this, not before I had a chance to apologize and make her see I was not good enough for her, that she was better than me, that she should just go before I hurt her for real. I could see Alice understood what was happening, but before either she or Emmett had the chance to change my mind or make me stop, I ran. I was faster than either of them and with a speed I had never before mustered I was in my house. What I saw in my kitchen turned my stomach and instantly made me more furious than I had been before.

Bella's hands were bandaged and they were resting lightly in her lap as my father's lips neared her perfect, graceful neck intent on biting her. He was going to kill her, change her, make her a woman not my Bella because I was stupid and selfish and weak. Who was I to rob the world of her light? And who was Carlisle to be the vessel of my selfishness?

He heard my entrance because he had a moment to snap open his eyes and look at me questioningly before I crossed the room and slammed him against the wall my he throat. Obviously I was not hurting him, I could have if I so wished but I didn't _want_ to hurt him.

_Edward…relax, please, she is okay…_

"What the _hell_ do you think you are doing to her?" I demanded, without answering his thought.

"Only what she asked me to, Edward," he replied.

_Talk to her, my son. She isn't angry—anything but._

"Edward, listen to me. We both knew this was coming. We both knew it was going to happen. You told her you wanted her to be with you forever, how else was she supposed to achieve such a thing?"

I snarled at him and wordless shoved him back against the wall again hard enough to shake the house to its foundations.

"Edward!" Bella practically screamed. When I didn't answer, too afraid to look at the woman I had wronged in such a sinful, way she said my name again. This time I couldn't ignore her. I turned the slightest bit. She slid down from the counter and looked at me, asking me to look at her. When I looked at her fully she seemed calm, and involuntarily I let my father go. In my peripheral vision I saw him go, but my focus was on my Bella. I smelled the salt in the air of tears welling in her eyes as she informed me of something I already knew.

"He is not the one you're mad at."

She always surprised me with how well she knew me. I felt something inside me break, so like when I had first smelled her blood, only this time it was a different part of me. Whatever was left of my soul had just died, slipped away and was lying on the floor between us. I didn't know what it felt like to cry, but if there was any experience comparable as a vampire, this was it. I was holding back the sobs that threatened to tear their way out of my chest and into the air through my mouth. I didn't want to do that in front of her, but when she took that one, fateful step in my direction and held her arms out to me, bandaged hands and an offer of comfort and forgiveness, telling me she didn't hate me like I was so convinced she did, I couldn't help it. After a moment of shock I stepped toward her and fell into her embrace. I sobbed shamelessly. I let it shake me and her, let it break me down, let the shame, guilt, sadness, fear and self-loathing come out with those wracking, painful cries.

Eventually I was able to pull myself together in some way and look at her. The tears had fallen from her eyes and had dried on her cheeks, leaving a streak of red and salt down her pale face. She was so lovely even then. And I was monstrous.

"I am so sorry, Bella. There is nothing I could ever do to make this better, I know. And I know that I can't ask you for forgiveness, because there is no excuse for the way I behaved. I epitomized the dark side of my nature and I put you in danger and for that I will never be able to forgive myself but―" I said, but she cut me off, with three words I didn't think it would have been possible to utter at that moment.

"Edward, it's okay."

With that I released myself from her embrace, no matter how much it pained me to do so and stared at her unabashedly, in shock and awe and complete disbelief.

"I tried to kill you, Bella. What part of that did you miss? I wanted to murder you and the only reason I didn't is because Alice and Emmett managed to get to us in time and save you. I wasn't going to change you or hurt you; I was going to kill you. What about that is okay?" I argued. But to my surprise, and Bella's too it seemed, she argued right back.

"Are you forgetting that you fought it? That you battled the monster within you to let me get away? It's impossible, what you did. Carlisle could do it, Esme, Emmett, Alice, Rosalie, maybe even Jasper if he got away fast enough, but you? You're barely three years old and you resisted. Not blood of a woman walking by, not my blood as we stood next to each other, but blood that had spilled from my hands, out in the air. I watched you; I saw it. You fought. And even though you caught up with me in the forest, I don't think you would have killed me. I don't think you had it in you. You're better than the beast you make yourself out to be, Edward."

But she didn't understand. She thought she had seen the good in me win the ultimate battle. What she had been witnessing in reality was the good in me watching as the beast took over and prepared to commit the ultimate sin. If I hadn't been damned before, killing Bella would have done it as surely as the sun rose. And so I fought with her, tried to make her see, make her understand I was no good for her. But she was having none of it. She wouldn't hear a word I was saying, bringing up our love, the one thing I couldn't refute. I couldn't lie to her and tell her I didn't love her it just wasn't possible. And so she used that against me, even as I argued, even as I told her that love wasn't going to keep her safe. She reminded me of a promise I had made her earlier, not to ever leave her for her own good. I had made her recount her days without me after I had been changed to remind myself why I couldn't possibly leave her. But I hadn't factored this into the equation when I made that promise.

"Bella, listen―" I tried to argue. But she stopped me with more of her forceful words.

No _you_ listen, Edward. I don't know if Alice showed you or not, but there were times, several times, more than once a day in fact, that I thought about killing myself when you were gone. I would have gone through with it, but I didn't, because there was some semblance of a chance that you would come back for me, and remember who I was and love me still. I _lived_ for you. If you leave me now, I'm as good as dead."

And with that statement she had successfully eradicated any defense I had for my argument. Any point I had for our debate was obliterated with those words. _There were times, several times, more than once a day in fact, that I thought about killing myself when you were gone._

I understood why Alice would never have shown me those visions, in the interest of preserving my little sanity in those months, but knowing this now…she had wanted to kill herself? If there was any doubt of the truth of those words it was destroyed when I looked in her eyes, in which I saw a shadow of that pain and the resolve. She had wanted to end her life. If Alice had visions of it, it meant that she had gone so far as deciding it a few times.

And her last words. _If you leave me now, I am as good as dead._ If she was trying to blackmail me into staying with her it was working. The idea of her dead, anywhere, ever, by my hand, hers or anyone else's made me sick to my stomach.

"Do not ever say such a thing again," I warned her. She was not to even _think_ such ludicrous things.

"Then don't ever talk about leaving me again, for my own good, because of your insane logic or reasoning. I don't want to hear it. I don't want to know if you think I'm better off without you, I'm not. The best place—the only place for me—is right here with you," she told me. She drove a hard bargain, that woman of mine. But even though I was afraid of her future, her safety, my inadequacy as her fiancée and future husband and what I could give her and what she deserved—so much more than me of course—there was a part of me that rejoiced that she wasn't willing to give up so easily. She was not going to let me go. She had told me once that I had been so stubborn when she had tried to leave me in the same manner. Perhaps our mutual obstinacy was a sign that some things just couldn't be changed.

"Oh Bella, Bella, whatever am I going to do with you?" I asked rhetorically, but she grinned.

"Hmm, well…you could always love me forever," she suggested. I smiled back at her.

"You think so, do you?" I asked innocently. She nodded in vigorous agreement.

"Oh yes. It seems the only viable option left."

There was a pause in our humor in which I asked for forgiveness. She gave it without pause, or even a second thought. She made sure to tell me that apologizing for what I was. I in turn managed to tell her, in the face of such a stunning display of kindness and forgiveness, that she astounded me, though that did not even begin to cover what she did to me. Without words I cupped her delicate cheeks in my hands and stared into her eyes. I could feel the frown on my face as I looked, feel the way my heart dropped down to my feet and then rose into my throat in succession. She had no idea what she did to me.

"I love you," I told her, making sure she understood that I meant it more now than I had ever meant it before. I couldn't remember my human life and what I had felt then, but I knew this emotion, the love that seeped and leaked through every cell in my being was more than anyone had ever felt for another person ever in the history of humanity or vampires or any other creature on the planet. And when she told me she loved me back, the ultimate forgiveness, the ultimate redemption, the ultimate gift a man could ever receive I kissed her gently, not sure of my control and reveled in the feeling of her kiss.

Oh how I loved her.

I would gladly do so forever.


End file.
